


La Monstrua

by madamerenard



Category: Coco (2017), Monsters University (2013)
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Teratophilia?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 21:25:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13490088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madamerenard/pseuds/madamerenard
Summary: Abigail is a monster by any other name.





	La Monstrua

Imelda hears her daughter scream in the middle of the night.

She rushes into the room, shoe in hand, ready to beat any intruder with it. She may not be a man, but that doesn’t mean she wouldn't fight.

There’s no one there. And yet, Imelda has a feeling she’s being watched. A silent moment passes, filled with tension and fear. Then there’s a noise behind her, like someone shutting the door.

Imelda wretches open the closet door, but there’s nothing in there but clothes and shoes.

She calms Coco. Coco tells her there is a monster.

Maybe it was just her imagination. Maybe both of their minds ran wild that night. Whatever the case, Imelda watches Coco sleep the rest of the night.

* * *

Coco does not wake screaming the next night. But Imelda hears noises coming from her door, scratching and tapping. She opens the door carefully, trusty boot in hand.

At first she sees nothing. Then a shadow emerges from the floor, out of nowhere, raising higher and higher until it hits the ceiling. Imelda’s eyes are pinpricks, her hands shaking and her body unable to move.

The monster sheds its shadowy skin, revealing a horned devil with burnt orange eyes. Imelda wants to scream. She wants to, but the monster shushes her with a clawed finger to her lips. The monster points at Coco, still soundly asleep.

Imelda keeps her scream to breathy whimpers, afraid for her daughter’s safety. Her eyes turn back to the monster, wondering what it wanted. She could not fight a devil like this-- it was over eight feet tall, with three inch claws and sharp teeth. It would make a meal of her. The best strategy was just to submit.

The monster looks at Coco, then back to Imelda. It appears to ponder for a moment before motioning to Imelda. At first she doesn’t understand, but the monster waves for her to exit. Imelda has no choice but to back into the hallway. The monster silently follows, closing the door quietly when they were both in the hallway.

They are alone now. Imelda is still holding her boot in her shaking grip, and the monster looks at it with amusement. She drops it quickly as if it were on fire, putting her hands up in surrender.

The monster, to her surprise, motions for her to calm down.

“I am Abigail Hardscrabble,” it whispers. It has a feminine voice. Now that Imelda looks, its (her?) claws are painted red with a glossy finish. She’s wearing makeup as well, dark eyeshadow, mascara, and lipstick. Not unlike Imelda herself, who liked to take pride in her appearance. The monster is also wearing clothes, but only a dark red blazer with a spiked undershirt. The bottom half of her is a bare centipede tail with many very creepy legs.

The monster looks like she’s waiting patiently. With a start, Imelda realizes that she’s waiting for her name.

“I-Imelda Rivera,” she stammers. The monster— Abigail— looks satisfied, and nods.

“I am Coco’s monster,” she whispers. “It’s my job to scare her.”

“Why?” Imelda asks before she can stop herself. Abigail looks unfazed, however, and answers.

“Energy.” The shoemaker has no idea if this is true. It sounds ridiculous, and yet Imelda doesn’t know enough about monsters to dispute it.

“Why...are you telling me this?”

Abigail peers at her for a moment, then glances down. It’s a moment before she gets an answer. “You looked worried last night.”

“I’m a single mother,” Imelda tells her, defensively, as if Abigail was judging her. Instead, the monster furrows her brow. “Why? Death?”

“Abandonment.” The reply is bitter, angry. She’ll be long dead before she forgets and even longer before she forgives. The monster looks at her softly. “Don’t pity me,” she spits, forgetting her fear for a moment. To her credit, Abigail tilts her head in acknowledgment.

“It takes some nerve,” Abigail murmurs, “to leave a beautiful woman like you behind.”

Imelda has never once had love from another woman, but suddenly she is painfully aware this monster fancies her. She’s not sure what to think of it. Sure, she had passing interest in beautiful women -- who didn’t? -- but such things were hush-hush. Such love was hidden from the world. And now, it was right in front of her, a monster by any other name with a rose held out to her.

Her face must have betrayed her emotions, because suddenly Abigail looked ashamed. Her lovely sunset eyes lowered and her body tensed. Imelda knew she was about to run, and a moment later she reached out and brushed the monster’s arm before Abigail disappeared into Coco’s room. A flash of orange—Abigail had one last look—before the closet door shut. Imelda opened the door to find clothes and shoes, yet again.

“Abigail...”

* * *

Abigail did not return the night after, or the night after that. Imelda was left to her shoemaking and her thoughts. What if Abigail never returned? Wouldn’t that be fine? Coco would not be scared, and Imelda would not have to worry about loving a beast.

But her thoughts turned. What would she say to Abigail, should she return? Is rejecting her rose really the only way? Imelda never considered herself insane, but here she was, contemplating a relationship with a monster. Was she just desperate since Hector left? No, no other man would do, and she told herself she closed off her heart to romantic love.

But Abigail was beautiful, just like her. Imelda can’t stop thinking of her fragile fingers, dusk coated eyes, a mouth wet with lipstick. Imelda goes to bed every night wondering what those claws would feel like, holding her closely. Or fangs biting her lip. She is beyond salvation.

When Abigail returns, Imelda does not hear her. She is not listening for Abigail’s scratching and tapping. She is deep in her dreams of fanged kisses and clawed hugs. So Abigail rouses her by trailing a claw gently down her cheek. Imelda gasps awake, seeing her beloved horned devil over her bed, gazing curiously down upon her.

“Abigail!” she exclaims softly. “I...I did not think you would return.”

“It’s so strange,” Abigail says, not acknowledging what was just said. “I did not tell them you touched me and yet I did not die.”

“Die?” Imelda whispers with worry. “Abigail, what are you saying?”

“Humans are toxic,” Abigail explains, brow furrowed and gaze lost in space. “A single touch can kill you. You touched me and yet I did not die.”

“Maybe...humans are not toxic to you after all,” Imelda hopes.

Abigail’s gaze finally finds her, an amused half-smile on her painted lips. “Why, what does it matter to you?”

“ _Si importa._ Abigail, I’ve been thinking about what you said...did you mean it?”

The monster sighs. “Yes. I did. You are beautiful. That doesn’t have to mean anything more.”

“What if I want it to?”

“A monster and a human?” Abigail chuckles. No mention of them both being women, of course. “You are insane.”

Imelda squares up with her. “You said it first. That makes you the _loca_ one.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Abigail sits down on her bed. “I suppose that does make me mad.”

Imelda sits up, sits closer to her. Her hand comes up, hesitates, but finally rests on Abigail’s. The monster looks at her hand, smiles, then frowns.

“I will do what I can to see you. But we must both keep this a secret from our worlds. Do you understand?”

“I do, Abigail.” No one would believe her in this world, but Imelda is smart enough to know that Abigail must also work to keep this a secret from _her_ world. Their visits may be sparse, or short. Abigail takes a breath, her chest rising and falling. Imelda licks her lips.

They tilt heads and meet lips.

Imelda savors the taste of Abigail’s lipstick for days after.

* * *

Abigail sometimes visits her in the day, and sometimes at night. She explains that time passes differently in the monster world and in the human world. In her world it is always night when Abigail sneaks into her workplace and calls the door to Coco’s room.

Resting like a cat on a rafter in the workshop, Abigail explains many things about the monster world while Imelda works. She says that monsters use the energy from children’s screams as their form of electricity. They go between worlds by closet doors. Abigail preens, tells her that she is the best “scarer” in their world. She is on her way to breaking her world’s scream record. Imelda smiles in pride.

But then Imelda asks about Abigail herself, and frowns at the answers. Abigail is alone in her world. She has no family apart from two cats. Abigail tells her that she is not worried about the world forgetting her- they will remember her name for centuries. But she has never known the connection and love of a close family. Imelda wants to offer her a family here, a life here; but she knows Abigail can never and will never leave her world, nor can she go to their world. They are star-crossed lovers, destined to fail.

One night, Abigail is holding Imelda just like her dreams. Imelda’s fingertips, leathery from her work, roam Abigail’s equally leathery skin until they find something odd.

“What are these?”

Abigail glances behind her. “Wings.”

“Wings? Can I see?”

The monster chuckles lowly. “Your house is much too small for me to spread my wings fully.”

Imelda curses Mexican houses in a short breath. “Then let’s go outside.”

Abigail considers it. “Very well.” So they go, hand-in-hand, Abigail’s legs clicking smoothly on the floor. Her legs used to creep Imelda out, but like everything else, she came to love them as much as she loved the owner.

Outside, Abigail guides her gently to stand in front of her. The monster bends her back, making a dramatic show before she extends her glorious four foot wings. The moonlight shines through the red membrane, dousing them both in a crimson glow.

Imelda gasps in wonder, thinking to herself that besides from her daughter’s birth, it’s the most amazing thing she’s ever seen. Abigail preens, soaks it all in. “Are you afraid of heights?” she asks.

“Well...-”

She doesn’t even have time to answer before Abigail surges forward, sweeping her up and taking off into the sky. Imelda panics for a moment, clinging to the monster tightly, but Abigail kisses her forehead and she calms immediately.

Abigail soars, higher and higher, high above the clouds until Imelda can no longer see the ground. Finally, she slows, and nudges Imelda to get her face out of her shoulder and look.

Imelda looks at the biggest moon she’s ever witnessed. It’s beautiful. But the more beautiful sight is Abigail, honey eyes looking soft and seeking her approval, wine red lips pulled up. Imelda can’t help but kiss her, soft and slow. It’s like a portrait, the two of them above the clouds, in the light of the moon, sharing kisses as Abigail’s wings beat around them.

* * *

But nothing prepares her for the heartbreak.

She thought she had finally healed. That Abigail had helped her forget her betrayal, that she gave her a new hope to look forward to every day and night. That despite their secretive relationship, Abigail tried her best to make her feel loved.

But Abigail breaks her heart.

“No...no! _Imposible!_ ”

“I’m sorry,” Abigail says again. She tries to touch Imelda, hold her, but the shoemaker is too furious. She takes off her boot and starts hitting Abigail with it. “You liar! You lied to me!”

“When did I lie?” Abigail demanded. “When?”

But now that Imelda thinks about it, Abigail never said they would last forever. That she would never leave. But Imelda is too bitter to grant Abigail any pardon. “When you said you loved me.”

“That was not a—”

“If you loved me, you wouldn’t leave me!” Imelda cries, careful to keep her voice low so Coco doesn’t wake up. “You would stay!”

Abigail looks at her with the same pitying eyes. Imelda can’t take looking at her anymore and turns away. “I can’t stay forever. You knew that.”

“But you’re _choosing_ to leave.”

“I was a scarer for many years. A great one. I made my mark. I broke records. And now it’s time for me to retire.”

“But what about me? You’re retiring from _me!_ ”

“I don’t want to do this,” Abigail whispers, her voice breaking. “Trust me, my love, if I could I would take you with me. I want to be happy with you forever. But we are from two different worlds. It could never last.”

Imelda can’t even think of anything else to accuse her of, truthfully. She can only stand there as tears fall from her face, thinking that love had ruined her yet again. Héctor and now Abigail had taken pieces of her heart that she will never get back. “Well? Go, then! Leave!” she hisses.

“Without a parting gift?”

“A gift? You had my heart. And you tore it to pieces! What more do you wish to take from me?” Imelda snapped. Abigail shuts her eyes, tightly, and sighs. She turns to leave.

Imelda watches her go through Coco’s door for the last time. Abigail turns as the door is closing, and their eyes meet for the last time. Her honeydew eyes are full of regret, and love. Imelda’s eyes are full of tears, and heartbreak. The door shuts.

And then, Coco wakes.

“Mama? Is something wrong? Did you see the monster?”

* * *

Imelda dies thinking that life played cruel tricks on her, but death, she finds, is much crueler.

Her spirit guide, her _Alebrije,_ is horned and winged. It is stunned when Imelda melts to tears in front of it, falling to her knees and clutching it, sobbing Abigail’s name over and over.

**Author's Note:**

> all spanish translations by google translate LOL


End file.
